a circular thought

don’t take this literally. if you do, it can be quite dangerous. so if you can, take this as a dream.

it is strange to talk about this place, because i don’t think anyone can understand it like i do.

you see, i have always been alone in here, and i think this place is only mine.

i know, i am evading the question.

the thing is, i don’t know how i ended up here.

i can barely remember life before this place.

everything that came before this place is but a faint memory that is always reeling at the back of my mind, where i very rarely visit.

it is too painful to go back, i hope you understand.

i can tell you this: this is what i remember clearly:

i remember waking up here. i remember trying to understand where i was.

i remember that before the waking up there was the falling asleep, but the falling asleep took place in a bed in another room, a room that felt impossibly distant from here, a room that i remember once feeling very familiar, but that now means very little to me, because i cannot go back to it.

i remember that this place has been exactly the same for all the time i’ve been here.

i don’t know for how long i have been here, though.

this is another thing i remember: in here, there is no such thing as time.

i remember time as a far away concept, but at every breath it becomes more abstract and meaningless to me.

if nothing changes, time does not pass.

right?

i think i remember that part alright.

now, if you want to know what happens in here, I will tell you, but remember you were the one who asked: in here, this is what happens:

i walk towards the end of the tunnel, but i don’t know where the end is.

it is not terribly complicated, because you see, i can only go two ways.

i have walked both of them, or none at all, i am not sure.

because if they each seem to lead nowhere, there is no evidence to prove that this is not a circle. so i might just be walking endlessly towards myself, and nothing else.

why do i walk, i hear you ask?

well, there is not much else to do. you see, once i woke up here, i couldn’t understand where i was.

and it felt natural to walk. don’t blame me! what would you have done?

it also felt natural that i should end up here, somehow.

stop! i can feel your judgement and confusion. didn’t i just tell you that i don’t know how i ended up here?

yes. and it’s true i promise.

what i have to offer you is but a feeling i have.

are you still listening? here it goes:

i think that before the waking up, there was something rotting inside of me.

yes, i think that is right.

i think there was something rotting inside of me even before i fell asleep that last night of falling asleep.

and then, when i woke up, the rotting thing made itself my whole entire world.

so if you ask me, where am i? i would say:

i am in a grey, infinite tunnel, only there is no light anywhere. it is not pitch dark, however, so i can still see, which bothers me because i cannot understand what is the point of seeing if my eyes can lead me nowhere. the only colour besides grey is that of my bloody feet that walk and walk barefoot. the sealing of this place is so high up i can almost imagine it’s the sky. almost. it is very cold in here, a fact I only know because of the faint smoke that slips from my lips. but I feel not the pain from my feet nor the cold.

if you ask me to explain in one sentence what it is that I do in here, I would say:

i am walking perpetually in the endless thing that rots inside of me.

yes, because I feel the thing is still inside of me. only a part of it unattached itself to form this perpetual tunnel of nothingness.

why am i telling you this, you ask?

well, it is because i have decided to stop walking, you see.

and i wanted you to understand, even if i know there is no point.

but i must stop now.

i have nothing to guide me, and nothing beautiful waiting for me.